


Before and After

by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-01
Updated: 2004-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-19 03:30:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra%20of%20Yore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor returns to Wolfram & Hart after 'Origin' to confirm his suspicions and, in the process, learns a little more about himself and the choices he's made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before and After

Connor knew he shouldn’t be here. Really, he shouldn’t be anywhere near his father’s old life. He’d been given an opportunity, an escape, a release. And he did appreciate it. Really, he did. But there was still something that drew him back…

It had begun as a realization the day after his old memories had been released, creating a two-layered tapestry of his life. Before and after. The two different realities melded poorly, and he’d spent the next few sleepless nights trying to reconcile them. And, during that interval, two pieces from opposite puzzles clicked together.

The result was so baffling that, unknown to his parents and friends, he’d snuck back to Wolfram & Hart the next day. It was strange being in the law-firm with his new knowledge of the evils within, but he had to make sure. He didn’t think he was losing his mind, but then after!Connor acknowledged that before!Connor had been more unhinged than he’d realized. Would he even know? Had the two disparate sets of memories driven him insane?

It was amazing how he could walk through this building and not even turn any heads. You’d think with all the prophecies around him and his birth, that someone would know, would sneak a glance. But everyone just walked about their business without sparing a second look to the world around them. That was the most unnerving thing about this place, and he hurried to the training rooms he’d seen during his tour.

Sure enough, the pair with the dysfunctional hairdressers was still there, still fighting, and still starting up their petty arguments over that stupid clipboard. Connor looked in through the glass, squinting as if he didn’t believe his eyes.

It _was_ Fred.

So what on earth had happened to her? The Fred he’d remembered had been…cute, sure. Nice, definitely. Sweet even. But not…

“Hot,” he breathed, watching the blue-haired figure he’d been introduced to as Illyria pick up the… _vampire?_ …and toss him across the room. He wet his lips, belatedly realizing that he might have had a secondary motivation for making this little visit as well.

As if hearing his thoughts, Illyria suddenly looked up to the observatory window, empty blue eyes boring into him. It was a cold, alien gaze. One that made him nervous and excited all at once. He’d always had a thing for older women – he now winced when he finally understood his father’s comment – but this one was older than anything he could have imagined.

The vampire – what had his name been? – was now looking up at him, too. Busted. Somewhat sheepishly, he abandoned his voyeuristic position and stepped into the training room. Guilt or desire? Confidence or reluctance? Two different lifetime’s emotions warred within him. Still, it was clear he was caught. No point in hiding any longer.

“He walks through the shadows,” Illyria was commenting as he entered, “watching and waiting.” Her head cocked to one side. “Waiting for what?”

“For your high-kicks to show off that lovely bum of yours, no doubt,” Spike – yes, that had been his name – retorted. “Lose the folks, kid?” he inquired a bit snidely.

“I’m here alone,” Connor answered with a shrug, never taking his eyes off of the blue goddess.

“This larva analyzes my shell.” Her lip curled in distaste. “It wishes to engage in mating rituals.”

Connor frowned. This… _creature_ , whatever it was, was as far from Fred as he ever could have imagined. Voice low, almost as if he were asking the question to himself, he wondered, “What happened to you?”

“Parasitic, holier-than-thou wanna-be goddess infected her,” Spike answered, sitting back on a stack of mats to watch this exchange curiously. “Wiped Fred right out.”

Connor felt a twinge of sadness. Fred hadn’t deserved that. But, then, this new entity was so intriguing…

“The Winifred Burkle husk contains my majesty now,” Illyria said, her tone haughty. “You may worship at my feet.”

That was a funny way of putting it, but he was tempted. Instead, he took a step closer, trying to force his eyes from the tight leather to the face he had once known. A little shiver ran through him. Fred, but not. Destroyed by the constant death and disaster that surrounded his father’s group of champions. Connor’s own life had been ripped apart by it once.

“You’re Illyria?” he inquired, still studying the blue speckled patches that seeped through to her skin like some sort of deep disease. Parasitic, Spike had called her. Infected. Dead.

“Indeed.” She stared back at him as indifferently as ever.

“I don’t suppose you’d want to…” he began.

“Oi, now. Bad idea,” Spike cut in, jumping back to his feet.

“…Spar,” Connor finished innocently enough.

“ _Very_ bad idea,” Spike amended.

“This mortal possesses hidden strengths,” Illyria considered. “He believes that such talents will match him to a goddess. He is a fool.”

“Blue Devil here packs a nasty punch.” Spike quickly stepped between them. “Don’t want daddy to hear ‘ve let you get smashed flat.”

“All are indifferent when I smash this half-breed flat,” Illyria added smugly.

Spike scowled over his shoulder at her, before turning back to Connor. “Shoo, now,” he insisted. “Must have _something_ better to do than sit around watching yours truly bounce off the walls.”

A part of Connor raged at being treated like a kid. He’d gone through hell, endless battles, wars, apocalypses...and Stanford’s admissions process. He wasn’t just another kid.

But then, he reflected, he was. He was both now. Two different lives to pick and choose from. He’d gotten his way once before, had his moment with Cordelia. It had ripped the world to shreds, but then he’d already been broken. He could still have that, if he wanted. Illyria was far-removed but tempting. A challenge like none he’d ever risked before…

But hadn’t he already made his choice when he’d turn his back on his father? This wasn’t his life anymore, his world. He had a fresh start now, a chance to escape the mistakes of his past. Even if his body did react instinctively to Illyria’s.

Blue eyes widened. “This insignificant speck presumes to—”

“Leave,” Spike cut her off, placing a hand on Connor’s elbow to guide him away.

Connor hesitated for a second, then nodded and let himself be led back out of the training room. One last glimpse of heaven and hell before he returned to earth.

“Fuck.” Spike breathed a sigh of relief when they’d gotten away. “Got a bit of a death wish, do you?”

Connor shrugged, the emotions inside him still battling each other. “She’s not Fred anymore.”

“That would be a ‘no’,” Spike agreed. “Not exactly the loveliest before and after pictures.”

Connor frowned at that. In a way, he was the opposite. Dangerous and alone before, happy and loved after. Really, what had he been thinking coming here in the first place?

“Best to get away from all this before the walls fall down around us,” Spike offered carefully, studying the young human’s unsure expression. “Get back to that life of yours and forget all about Her Royal Stick-Up-The-Ass.”

“Yeah…right.”

“C’mon,” Spike sighed. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Why?” Connor asked suspiciously.

“’Cause it’s the best way to get over a girl.”

“There’s nothing to get over,” Connor insisted. “Not really.” He followed Spike down the corridor nonetheless.

“Oh?”

“My chemistry professor’s more my type, anyway.”

Spike just shook his head. “Better buy you the whole bottle, then…” he commented to himself.

“You do know I’m underage, right?” Connor asked skeptically.

A grin. “We just won’t tell dad, then.” Spike’s eyes glanced upward in the direction of Angel’s office for a second.

Connor frowned, but then shook it off. After all, his dad had never been very good at subtlety. And a free drink and a way out were too good to pass up…

* * *

Illyria watched them go, standing stock-still in the middle of the training room. Unmoving, unblinking. But all-seeing. Strange, the mortals and their time. Change followed through them, altering them beyond recognition. Blowing away each grain of sand and replacing it with the new, so that what stood in the beginning and end were entirely different entities, yet still the same. Before and after.

This Winifred Burkle had once been like the others. Alive, then dead, her body reused, her essence shattered. And, alone, Illyria stood unchanging. For she was time’s mistress, one who guided, altered, wrapped it around her. She would never know such menial things as change.

And, even as the first twinge of temporal pain struck her, so lightly at first that it didn’t even feel like a pinprick, one thought remained solid in her mind: _I am Illyria. Eternal, immortal, invincible. Eternal…_

That was before.


End file.
